Page 211 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

Lady Nothril sneers down at me, my ripped dress flying around my ankles, my hair in my face. Then she dives back into the Wood.

The wind goes still.

The whole world goes still.

I glance at the rise to see the tops of soldier helmets peering over the edge. Then I turn back to the border. Rahk steps to my side, lacing his fingers with mine.

Neither of us breathes in that moment.

Then a lone figure emerges from the Wood. A human. I recognize him immediately as one of the slaves I encountered during the raid. Several more people begin stumbling out after him. Bewilderment casts across their face as they look upon the human world.

They keep coming. Dozens—hundreds. Men, women, even young children.

Lady Nothril let them go.

It is the first man who finally releases a great, “Hurrah! We are free!”

I watch them come, tears leaking out of my eyes. “Jacob, if you could only see this.”

It starts as a whisper but ends in a flood.

A squeeze on my hand tears my attention away. Pavi smiles at me, and though there is fear in her gaze, there is also a steely determination. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”

She just smiles and lets go. She runs to Rahk one more time, hugging him desperately. He kisses the top of her head. Then she releases him and walks toward the Wood.

Rahk watches her go. She stops at the border. Turns around one last time. Waves.

Then she vanishes.

The wind whips Rahk’s white hair around his face. He releases a great sigh. I watch his lips move briefly. Then he turns away.

Forever letting his little sister go.

Suddenly, a cry goes up.

“Hail Lord Protector of Harbright!”

I look around, confused, until I realize they are referring to Rahk. He also doesn’t seem to realize they are calling to him. He has come to my side, but looks up in bewilderment. Then his eyes go wide as he hears what the soldiers and the rescued slaves alike are crying out to him. They surround him, falling to their knees to thank him.

For a fae prince, he doesn’t seem to have a clue what to do with all of this praise.

“What are you—?” he demands, stumbling backward, only to be met with more warriors thanking him for protecting Harbright. My tears turn to laughter.

Rahk looks over the heads of the people surrounding him. He searches the crowd, his eyes scanning fast, his face twisted in concern—until his gaze lands on me. He visibly sags in relief.

Then he shoves aside the people coming to him. He breaks into a run, and I’ve hardly a moment to breathe before he’s caught me up in his arms, holding the back of my head and kissing me desperately. I grab hold of the top of his breastplate, pulling him deeper into the kiss and pouring every piece of my heart into his lips.

“There are no more secrets,” I gasp between kisses. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”

He smiles and kisses my nose. “I know.”

“One benefit to having your mother nearly invade our land,” I add with a gesture toward the empty fields, “is that I doubt people will have any interest in farming carriage-sized pumpkins.”

He laughs. That beautiful laugh that only I have been able to earn. It makes me happy as he replies, “I daresay your assessment will prove correct.”

Epilogue

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